Othello Act 3 Scene 3

IAGOMy noble lord--OTHELLOWhat dost thou say, Iago?IAGODid Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,Know of your love?OTHELLOHe did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?IAGOBut for a satisfaction of my thought;No further harm.OTHELLOWhy of thy thought, Iago?IAGOI did not think he had been acquainted with her.OTHELLOO, yes; and went between us very oft.IAGOIndeed!OTHELLOIndeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that?Is he not honest?IAGOHonest, my lord!OTHELLOHonest! ay, honest.IAGOMy lord, for aught I know.OTHELLOWhat dost thou think?IAGOThink, my lord!OTHELLOThink, my lord!By heaven, he echoes me,As if there were some monster in his thoughtToo hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?And when I told thee he was of my counselIn my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!'And didst contract and purse thy brow together,As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brainSome horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,Show me thy thought.IAGOMy lord, you know I love you.OTHELLOI think thou dost;And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty,And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:For such things in a false disloyal knaveAre tricks of custom, but in a man that's justThey are close delations, working from the heartThat passion cannot rule.IAGOFor Michael Cassio,I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.OTHELLOI think so too.IAGOMen should be what they seem;Or those that be not, would they might seem none!OTHELLOCertain, men should be what they seem.IAGOWhy, then, I think Cassio's an honest man.OTHELLONay, yet there's more in this:I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughtsThe worst of words.IAGOGood my lord, pardon me:Though I am bound to every act of duty,I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;As where's that palace whereinto foul thingsSometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,But some uncleanly apprehensionsKeep leets and law-days and in session sitWith meditations lawful?OTHELLOThou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his earA stranger to thy thoughts.IAGOI do beseech you--Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,As, I confess, it is my nature's plagueTo spy into abuses, and oft my jealousyShapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet,From one that so imperfectly conceits,Would take no notice, nor build yourself a troubleOut of his scattering and unsure observance.It were not for your quiet nor your good,Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,To let you know my thoughts.OTHELLOWhat dost thou mean?IAGOGood name in man and woman, dear my lord,Is the immediate jewel of their souls:Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands:But he that filches from me my good nameRobs me of that which not enriches himAnd makes me poor indeed.OTHELLOBy heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.IAGOYou cannot, if my heart were in your hand;Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.OTHELLOHa!IAGOO, beware, my lord, of jealousy;It is the green-eyed monster which doth mockThe meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in blissWho, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'erWho dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!OTHELLOO misery!IAGOPoor and content is rich and rich enough,But riches fineless is as poor as winterTo him that ever fears he shall be poor.Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defendFrom jealousy!OTHELLOWhy, why is this?Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy,To follow still the changes of the moonWith fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubtIs once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,When I shall turn the business of my soulTo such exsufflicate and blown surmises,Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealousTo say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:Nor from mine own weak merits will I drawThe smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;And on the proof, there is no more but this,--Away at once with love or jealousy!IAGOI am glad of it; for now I shall have reasonTo show the love and duty that I bear youWith franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:I would not have your free and noble nature,Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't:I know our country disposition well;In Venice they do let heaven see the pranksThey dare not show their husbands; their best conscienceIs not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.OTHELLODost thou say so?IAGOShe did deceive her father, marrying you;And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,She loved them most.OTHELLOAnd so she did.IAGOWhy, go to then;She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,To seal her father's eyes up close as oak-He thought 'twas witchcraft--but I am much to blame;I humbly do beseech you of your pardonFor too much loving you.OTHELLOI am bound to thee for ever.IAGOI see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.OTHELLONot a jot, not a jot.IAGOI' faith, I fear it has.I hope you will consider what is spokeComes from my love. But I do see you're moved:I am to pray you not to strain my speechTo grosser issues nor to larger reachThan to suspicion.OTHELLOI will not.IAGOShould you do so, my lord,My speech should fall into such vile successAs my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend--My lord, I see you're moved.OTHELLONo, not much moved:I do not think but Desdemona's honest.IAGOLong live she so! and long live you to think so!OTHELLOAnd yet, how nature erring from itself,--IAGOAy, there's the point: as--to be bold with you--Not to affect many proposed matchesOf her own clime, complexion, and degree,Whereto we see in all things nature tends--Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.But pardon me; I do not in positionDistinctly speak of her; though I may fearHer will, recoiling to her better judgment,May fall to match you with her country formsAnd happily repent.OTHELLOFarewell, farewell:If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:IAGO[Going] My lord, I take my leave.OTHELLOWhy did I marry? This honest creature doubtlessSees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.IAGO[Returning] My lord, I would I might entreatyour honourTo scan this thing no further; leave it to time:Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,For sure, he fills it up with great ability,Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,You shall by that perceive him and his means:Note, if your lady strain his entertainmentWith any strong or vehement importunity;Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,Let me be thought too busy in my fears--As worthy cause I have to fear I am--And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.OTHELLOFear not my government.IAGOI once more take my leave.ExitOTHELLOThis fellow's of exceeding honesty,And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am blackAnd have not those soft parts of conversationThat chamberers have, or for I am declinedInto the vale of years,--yet that's not much--She's gone. I am abused; and my reliefMust be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,That we can call these delicate creatures ours,And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,Than keep a corner in the thing I loveFor others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;Prerogatived are they less than the base;'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:Even then this forked plague is fated to usWhen we do quicken. Desdemona comes:Re-enter DESDEMONA and EMILIAIf she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!I'll not believe't.